Fatalism
by fuegofeather
Summary: Facing the truth of everything she thought she knew. Under Aizen's expanding rule, Orihime and the Arrancar must travel from Hueco Mundo, not to kill, but to understand what it means to be alive. AU, OOC, violence, eventual sexual content/harem situations
1. Chapter 1

_EH, I had an account on here before, but I felt like a new start._

_Anyway, this story is no doubt gonna seem a bit odd, even AU wise, at least it does to me! But who knows, someone might appreciate it._

_-.-.-.-_

Fires crackled and snapped and threw sparks into the air, igniting every flammable object within reach and filling the sky with a thick smoke that promised to linger on for days. The dead no longer bled, the dying had ceased their moans and cries to stare up at the sky of swirling black and gray, mesmerized and bereft of hope. The only sounds were the hissing of the fires, but even those were muted, and were completely ignored by the only living creature still standing in the area.

Orihime hardly batted an eyelash at the destruction surrounding her, taking a deep breath of the tainted air, smelling and tasting only the promise of later rejuvenation. That's what she'd been told, and logic backed up all of Aizen-sama's claims; how many times had she heard that fire destroyed, but also cleansed? And there was certainly quite the cleanup to do on planet Earth, and they'd only scratched the surface. Remembering this fact, she suddenly sprang into the air, coming to land with clawed feet embedding themselves into the still twitching human body a few yards away. The man sputtered, blood pouring from his mouth, and went still.

"You enjoy this far too much,_ Princesa_."

Orihime snarled over her shoulder, a definite animal sound that a humanoid throat should be incapable of making, but her features relaxed. It was Ulquiorra, surveying her work with an impassive, but not disapproving gaze, despite his comment. His white coat was untouched by the ash and dirt flowing in the breeze around them, and she thought the flames reflected beautifully off of his deep green eyes, like a ghostly hunting cat.

She flipped her hair back from her shoulders, poking one of her fangs with her tongue, a growing habit. "I suppose I am, but I didn't earn that name from doing nothing. It's _because _I enjoy this that I'm honored." Orihime twirled about with her arms up, a morbid imitation of a child spinning in the snow or rain with joy. "And anyway, I'd do it regardless. The title's just a perk."

Ulquiorra's searching gaze came to rest on her, and she stared back, hands on hips. "What's up?"

"You seem to have many faces. I wonder which is the real you."

The blunt and out of place remark caught her off guard, and her arms came to rest at her sides, one eyebrow cocked. "I don't get it."

A puff of dust kicked up into the air as the stoic Arrancar shifted a piece of rubble with his foot, as if to make a point. "The girl I knew when we first met wouldn't dream of doing something like this. I merely point out that it's strange to me."

Orihime's lip curled briefly as if to growl, and she flexed a clawed fist, but couldn't deny the fact. It was true; when she'd first come to Hueco Mundo as a prisoner, she'd been steadfast in her denial and hatred of the place, and all of the Arrancar, and that her friends would rescue her and defeat the enemy. But then she'd gotten to know them, had seen the truth for what it was. Remembering this, she looked back at him, confident.

"Hollow and Arrancar have as much of a right to live as anyone else. You can't have life without death, or good without evil. Who decides what's right or wrong anyway? Each side is going to believe that _they're _right and the _other _is wrong. I was ignorant before, I'm older now, and this is what I chose." And so she was, and so she did. It had only been 2 years, maybe a little more, but it felt like a lifetime of hard lessons and harder experiences.

"Do you not believe these humans also have a right to live?"

He had to be testing her. He knew exactly why they were here, why all the Arrancar were fighting together! The air between them visibly churned with her internal outburst.

"I only destroy what threatens the natural way of things. Humans have their place, even shinigami, but they both overstep their bounds. You know all this, what's your problem?"

Ulquiorra studied her for a minute more, than looked up at the sky for their companions. "I only wondered if that's how you really felt. Some would say that Aizen-sama has specifically manipulated you for this situation."

Now Orihime did growl, and had to resist the urge to leap at him; he may be ticking her off, but he was a partner, a friend deep down, when no one else was looking. But even a friend could go too far, and she satisfied herself with huffing a quick lick of flame from her mouth that danced and flickered out harmlessly at his feet. He _definitely _knew that Aizen-sama never unleashed his hypnotic powers onto the Arrancar, especially his Espada. The man was sadistic in many ways, but he knew the value of winning allies honestly to a cause. Hypnotized Arrancar just didn't have the same spirit, and often became bitter and unreasonable as they subconsciously fought against the binding.

Not to mention there was simply no reason to. Faced with the evils of the world, there was little they wouldn't do to help right it. It was regrettable that so many had to die, but things would start over, and hopefully the same mistakes wouldn't be made. She'd lived in the human world all of her childhood, at that, and wouldn't let it happen. And they'd saved what they could, mostly animals, to live under the artificial environment in Los Noches until the Earth was healed. It was a little like Noah's Ark, which probably appealed to Aizen's god complex, too.

Ulquiorra chuckled, which always creeped her out a little as he did it without changing his expression, not even giving the smallest of smirks. Of course he knew these things, and he knew that she was running the facts furiously over in her mind, making sure she hadn't missed some important fact that might explain his questioning. His questions were truly innocent, however, and to prove his point he released a sudden wave of energy, rippling out from his body and making the fires around them flare and burn even brighter.

Orihime smiled at this, spreading her crimson wings (ah, flight. Another "perk"!) and scouting around some more for their comrades. Spying them a mile off, she waved to Ulquiorra, whose own bat-like appendages emerged with his silent zanpakuto release, fiendish tail whipping out behind him and claws digging into the dirt as he took off to follow.

The last surviving human in that area, sporting a great gash across his chest and his lower body trapped beneath a piece of twisted metal roofing, watched them go. He'd hardly heard a word of their conversation over the roar of the fires, not that it mattered much to the dying man. All he saw was a veritable angel of death and the devil himself flying away to bring more destruction. He vaguely wondered what great sin finally brought humanity to it's flaming end, when death fell in on him too.

_-.-.-.-_

Well, thur you go. A bit morbid, but there's gonna be a lot of that, as well as a dose of everything else. Review if you like, and be honest, no matter what you have to say. If anything confuses you, simply ask, and I'll be glad to explain it, as long as it doesn't give away any plot points~


	2. Chapter 2

Whoo, the next~ having some tech difficulties, so breaks between updates will be a bit random. \o/

-.-.-.-.-

Morning came.

Orihime, Ulquiorra and their group of lower-ranked Arrancar had scoured every town for miles that night. There weren't many human settlements left, since official war had been declared over a year ago, and Aizen hadn't been too worried after the initial invading waves to rush them, especially with the shinigami subdued. Arrancar wiped the Earth clean at their leisure, sometimes not showing themselves or becoming distracted for days, only to return and blow away whatever tiny defenses the pitiful bipeds could come up with in their absence.

This seemingly large pocket of civilization was gone before false dawn was replaced with the true reddening of the sky through the mountains. Orihime tossed a burnt bone off a cliff, watching the sun peek through the haze of smoke and turn the place a dusty yellow/orange. She couldn't wait for the place to be healthy again; a sunrise from here would be breathtaking then. As it was, she'd gotten used to the depressing shades of war, had even come to accept it. Everything had it's place, even destruction.

Ulquiorra's head cocked abruptly to the side, and she turned to face him. After a minute, she queried. "A message?"

The man nodded, glancing back at their resting group and deciding that they could stay, to pick through the rubble later and salvage what they might. "It's Grimmjow. He believes he's found something important and requests our presence."

Orihime brightened at the sound of the Sexta's name. Grimmjow had been one of her first friends in Hueco Mundo, and he never failed to stir up some excitement. Even Ulquiorra seemed eager; his wings were up and out already, and he led the way.

-

Their feline comrade was waving them down as they circled overhead, assessing the situation. All Orihime could see was Grimmjow, and a bundle lying at his feet. They were by a great lake, once teeming with life, and now almost completely green with algae and infection, fish feeling like a far off dream. That, however, had been more due to leaking chemicals and climate change than anything they did.

The two of them landed by their friend, Orihime forgetting her still partly unfurled wings to make a leap for the Sexta Espada, throwing her arms about his neck but barely shifting him off balance. He ruffled her hair a bit and grinned, but couldn't hold back his usual snarky retort.

"About fuckin time you guys got here. What'd you do, eat the bastards too?"

Ulquiorra scoffed, but didn't reply. Orihime wrinkled her nose and shoved him away with a playful push to his chest. "Gross, yeah right!"

"Whatever. I got somethin here you wanna see though, so hurry it up."

"You mean the thing that's getting away?" Ulquiorra asked sarcastically, pointing a black nail towards the body that was indeed trying to crawl away while they were distracted. It was a girl. She had short dark hair matted with blood, and her torn black uniform barely covered her, no doubt from when Grimmjow had mauled her more than a little. She looked back, deep blue eyes widening in fear.

Orihime didn't have to think. She barely breathed before leaping over to the doomed girl in a sudden burst of fury. That face, that resigned expression, that _aura_. She knew this girl, and all that registered in her mind after that point was white hot hatred, followed by old trickles of past jealousy and envy.

Grimmjow and Ulquiorra looked on, not surprised. In the months before the war, Orihime had made enemies of her so-called friends. They couldn't accept her changes, but most of them had simply disappeared, refusing to fight someone they, in some way, still loved.

"Rukia," Orihime hissed, her breath hot and angry. Rukia had been the one, the only one, who remained from her past Nakama to fight against her. Even people like Matsumoto or Toushiro, loyal to their fellow shinigami, had laid down their zanpakuto and fled, angry, but spared. Rukia had fought on, though, and Orihime grew to hate her most of all.

Rukia gasped for air as the fiery woman pressed down on her, squeezing her shoulders, claws almost touching all the way through. "Orihim…e." Another gasp. "I only want to help you-"

"Shut up!" Orihime yelled, this statement enraging her further. It was a typical ploy, one Rukia had played in many of their skirmishes over the past few years. It was the only reason she still lived, by playing off of Orihime's guilt, but it wouldn't work anymore. They were almost finished. If last night's actions hadn't officially ended humanity, she doubted that there were more than a handful of them left, and she wouldn't be distracted now.

Knowing she was stuck, Rukia's face twisted in a scowl, and she lifted a shaking hand as if to try and strike the red-head. A growl from Grimmjow that was more felt in her bones than heard put an end to that.

Orihime was still for a few minutes, trying to stay sane enough to take it all in. Normally she welcomed the frenzy of battle, but she wanted to be fully aware here, to feel everything.

A part of it hurt, but she'd always refused to kill with indifference or ignorance. It was certainly difficult, considering she had little to no sympathy for this one anymore.

"This had to end Rukia, I'm tired of playing cat and mouse with you."

Rukia wanted to laugh in her face, but could only cough. "It was either this or die. I never die without a fight."

"You could have lived!" Orihime yelled again. "I let Rangiku-san go, and Ishida, Chad, Shuuhei, Yachiru, Urahara, Yoruichi, Renji, your brother." She waved a hand, knowing there were others but too impatient to list them all. "All of your friends, they left to Soul Society and I let them! You should have gone, stayed low and minded your own business, no one would have come after you."

"Liar. You didn't let _Ichigo _leave. He was my friend, too."

Grimmjow stepped in again, this time more forcefully, kicking at the shinigami's head until she saw stars. "Idiot. S'not nice to talk about people when they ain't here, why don't ya ask him yourself? If you even live that long, but I sure as hell doubt it." He let out a sharp laugh, and Rukia flinched.

Orihime gave him a thankful look. If he hadn't interrupted, she would have torn apart the woman without a thought, effectively ruining her revenge. Rukia was the last person she wanted to talk about Ichigo with.

"You know Ichigo is with us, and he's happy too, as long as he didn't have to fight the ones he cared about. He saw the truth just like I did."

Rukia gave a half sigh, the other part chuckle. Who knew what was truth, who knew anything anymore? As she looked into the burning eyes of a girl she once felt as close as a sister to, she accepted that she knew very little. And even if she knew anything at all, she supposed it came down to the strongest, not who was right or wrong.

How simple the universe seemed right then, and she was sick of trying to fight it.

-

Hueco Mundo had definitely improved. Instead of the eerie stillness that used to cover the place before the war, life flowed freely. It started with subtle changes; rivers cropped up seemingly from nowhere, smaller Hollows appeared and formed living groups less chaotic than before, some resembling Earth-based animals almost completely in their actions, if not in appearance. Birds would wing overhead in flocks every so often, nesting in the delicate crystal trees, fish popped up in the rivers and ponds, horses were seen kicking up great clouds of dust in the distance as they ran together, packs of canines heard howling but rarely seen. The only differences were obvious; they were all Hollows, a handful of them far more intelligent than their Earthly counterparts.

Then there were more drastic changes, like rain. The first time it rained in Hueco Mundo, it was taken for a bad omen. The sand turned into something of an ocean itself, and the moon was hidden behind threatening clouds. Only afterwards did the Arrancar see it for what it was, and they'd reveled in the gentle drizzle afterwards as the desert sands dried again, the raindrops making music as they dripped all about from Los Noches' now spotless white buildings. The light from the moon reflected on the harmless spray still carried on the breeze, creating dazzling patterns of color. Nothing like a real rainbow, but enough to brighten the mood of the place considerably.

All in all, it was home, and Orihime barely resisted falling to the ground and embracing the silver sands. She felt as if her lungs would burst, inhaling the scent: always slightly salty as if a beach was some ways off, and comforting. It felt alive and warm and _right _in some way she couldn't put words to; things should always be this way.

And with the blood of the last shinigami to resist drying on her hands as she looked down upon the scene, feeling the energies of other friends nearby, and hearing Grimmjow's pleased rumble behind her (though he tried to hide it by yawning), Orihime knew things always would be, so long as she had something to say about it.

-.-.-.-.-

I'm so in love with the Hueco Mundo I see in my mind that I'm truly sad the rest of the story won't take place there, not really. :C


	3. Chapter 3

Haha, I guess I'm one of the rare few who don't give a crap about reviews. \o/ I'm enjoying writing it too much, so it goes~

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_You know Ichigo is with us, and he's happy too."_

Orihime's own words followed her through the pearly corridors that evening. She'd walked all around the buildings, poked her head into many of the rooms of friends she hadn't seen since she'd left for Earth a few weeks ago, and soaked the feeling of being home back in. But she also reflected on those last moments with Rukia, namely what little was said about Ichigo.

Ichigo _was _happy, and she knew she wasn't making that up. It's true, he'd felt like a failure at first, or some sort of monster, but so had she. The guilt lessened when they let their friends flee, and their time in Hueco Mundo had made their lives up to then seem like whole other past lives. Ichigo opened up more than he ever did on Earth; he started to smile, for one thing, which Orihime definitely enjoyed, and she'd been able to talk to him in a way that would have left her tongue tied and nervous back then. But she had little to lose now, and the words came freely. If she'd been happy with his initial changes, she nearly soared when he apologized for his ignorance, and promptly kissed her.

Orihime smiled somewhat dreamily as she remembered that. The only thing that could burst their little bubble from that point on was…

Blue hair and a raving grin came to mind, and Orihime shook her head in mock despair, hopping up onto a low windowsill and letting her head rest on the arch, spreading her legs out. Grimmjow had gotten awful close to them both after that. She never figured out if he was jealous of Ichigo, or liked the other male more than he let on. Whatever the case, it didn't take long for a not-so-subtle 3rd person to start sneaking in to sleep with them at night. And Ichigo didn't seem to mind either, when Orihime expected fights to break out every day. If anything, Grimmjow was the perfect compliment. The two of them could beat each other senseless just for the thrill of it, but they always kissed and made up, literally.

-

_Those first few days had been chaotic. She swore that the world would break apart before it was all over with._

_From the human perspective, reports had trickled in slowly to begin with. Strange creatures were appearing in major cities, huge black beasts, featureless except for solid white masks for faces, and large enough to topple a skyscraper each. Missiles and other key weapons were devoured by the things, military bases disappearing in the blink of an eye and a bright red explosion. _

_Arrancar poured in, as did the shinigami. Great battles took place where cities had been. She remembered flying solemnly over her own immense unit, stretching for half a mile and practically shifting the Earth as they marched to meet the equally large shinigami party. A section took up a ragged cheer as she passed over, seeming like a bright red battle banner, and she laughed, certain of the outcome. They may have been matched, perhaps even outnumbered, but they had circumstance on their side. The shinigami had been too comfortable in their precise ways; the only soldiers there truly ready for battle were the 13 squads, which obviously had to be spread out; all the rest had to be filled with students barely out of, or still in, training. Arrancar were almost limitless, if one traveled the whole of Hueco Mundo and actually looked, and all quite capable in combat from "birth."_

_The charge was quick, and the scene dissolved into screaming chaos. It was hard to see everything clearly, but she remembered perfectly the young shinigami, her first kill. He'd managed to scramble some distance away, until he backed into her, blind with fear. He looked up at her in horror, and she kicked out with one foot, claws extended, bashing right up through his chin and almost getting stuck in his skull with the force._

_-_

Orihime gasped for air, but only the crickets answered. She'd fallen asleep on the windowsill, probably for some time. She ran a hand through her hair and groaned aloud at the stiffness in her back, then braced her hands on her knees and tried to still the ache in her chest. She reached for her heart, meeting empty air, and slowly felt around the fist-sized hole. It was weird how it could hurt like that, but she supposed if she could still feel emotionally, phantom sensations weren't out of the question.

She hoped it wasn't responsible for the dreams, though. That could only be a bad thing. It'd been quite a while since she'd thought of that incident, seeming a lifetime ago, and she had no desire to relive the experience. She couldn't fathom why; anyone else would be proud of such victories, but the only sensation that dream left was a bad taste. Quite prepared to sit there all through the night and ponder that, she almost screamed at the sound of Aizen's voice, breaking through the silence like a cloud passing in front of the moon.

"You're troubled."

Orihime placed her hand over her hole again, obviously a new nervous reflex, as if to calm a fluttering heart. "Aizen-sama…you shouldn't do that!"

The powerful man came to sit on the other side of the large windowsill, leaning back with a sigh and folding his arms within the sleeves of his uniform. He looked at her with open amity. She liked that about him, he never made himself seem greater than her or the others, yet they respected him as superior without question. Of course, he was powerful, but he was kind to them, almost fatherly to those who welcomed the affection, and tolerant of those who preferred a more distant relationship with their remarkable leader. She instantly relaxed, no longer dumb-struck by his presence as she was relieved.

"You're right though, I am. It's just my dreams, they make me nervous." True enough. Best not to mention the outright fear.

Aizen didn't look surprised, but he had the grace to look honestly concerned. "Dreams of your past?"

"Sometimes. Usually they're about the war. Nightmares, really."

"I see."

There was an awkward silence then, and Orihime hoped she didn't give the wrong impression. She didn't regret any of it, and didn't want him to think so.

"I think I've got what the humans call PTSD," she chuckled nervously, only half-joking, to break the silence. And what an understatement that was, it didn't take any kind of therapist to see it. Everyone within hearing of her room knew that not a night passed without some incident, be it waking up screaming, yelling out in her sleep, or accidentally lashing out at Grimmjow or Ichigo, who inevitably woke up in a panic. She was surprised that she could ever even think of battle without having a fit.

Aizen let out a long breath, as if tired. "There is no shame in it. The doubt," he added, seeing her confused look. "For I'm guessing that you harbor guilt, and that causes you to doubt yourself."

Orihime nodded vaguely, looking down at her crossed feet on the sill. She fiddled with the white hakama pants, identical to Grimmjow's but just her size. She felt Aizen's gaze on her, and moved to brush non-existent dust from her forearm-gloves. No matter who, she hated being stared at.

"There is no cure for doubt, nor guilt. All you can do is go forward, and put the past behind you. If you think about it, that fact is the very essence of an Arrancar. When a person becomes a Hollow, something kept them from passing on to the afterlife, some burning emotion. A broken heart, unresolved shame, hatred, any number of things. And as they progress into the Arrancar phase they regain their sentiency, and enough of their memories and self to understand the very emotions that kept them from entering the next life. Yet they are propelled to continue onward, it's simply in their nature, like a sunflower ever reaching towards the sun. Whatever happened to you before is your past, and you must create your future."

The sudden shift in perspective, focusing directly on her, snapped Orihime out of the peaceful trance of his voice. How she'd heard that lecture before, it was part of what motivated her to sympathize with the Arrancar, and it made sense applied to her dilemma now.

A gentle hand, but strong, she knew, swept out in a small arc, gesturing towards the desert and it's endless horizon. "All of you is now here. Each grain of sand carries a part of you, and it will always be your home no matter how far you travel, or how entangled you become in the fog of your past." He turned a serious glance her way this time, which she returned. "That is ever more important for you to know now, as I feel you'll be traveling quite far indeed."

It was difficult to reply. Orihime couldn't argue with the certainty in his voice, but the words themselves! To travel from here to the human world was one thing, but she had a hunch that he was implying somewhere else altogether. The thought sent her stomach twisting into nervous knots and her muscles locking, her body protesting the very idea of leaving. It was true, what he'd said, and right now she could almost feel her form ready to dissolve into the sand, to become one with it.

"I'm…not quite sure I understand. I might even say I disagree, Aizen-sama. If you sent me somewhere, I would go without question, but how could I bear leaving here for so long on my own? Where else is there anyway, for someone like me?"

Aizen laughed then, taking all the seriousness from his person and making her wonder if he'd been joking. He stood and straightened out his robes, and began to walk back down the way he came, voice echoing off the halls. "I suggest you pay Szayel a visit, he'll have an answer for that!"

Orihime watched him go until he disappeared into the now-darkened corridor. After a minute of amused disbelief, she looked up at the sky, seeking some inner peace from the crescent moon that always hung there. But she could only gape at it, the hole in her chest giving a definite twinge that fixed to make her hurt right down to her nails.

The moon was full.


End file.
